Sick at Heart
by Mythicalnightguard
Summary: The last story in the Emperor of Rome series. He was recovering fine, all was well besides the small cough, the headaches, and the passing out during the festival of Jupiter. Okay, maybe he wasn't fine. He believed it was just one of his old illnesses coming back. He'd been sick before in his past life. Nothing to worry about. But Larry knows what it is. And it isn't pretty. No/.
1. Chapter 1

This is the last story in the Emperor of Rome series. Enjoy!

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He didn't want to wake up that evening, swathed warmly in his sheets and blankets as the sun set on the horizon. Then again, who did want to wake up on a Saturday? There were no visitors tonight; Larry had gotten them a nice, week long vacation for a sort of "holiday" break. There would be a new movie every night in the lobby, nice, peaceful suppers with the museum family, and plenty of time for fun and relaxation galore.

And the relaxation was what he wanted the most that evening. It had been about a week since the business with the new generals had been seen to, and he was still recovering from his injury. He felt much better, he had to admit; the recovery was going quite quickly. That was a good thing, because then he could get back to commanding his men.

Lepidus had been doing a good job of commanding the men in his place, since Marcus was not around to do it. The old veteran had decided to go back into active service, filling in the temporary command of acting general while his old comrade recovered. He'd proven that he was fit for the job; he was a fine soldier, and now that he wasn't living in the shadow of Antonius he could pride himself in that.

As he laid there for a few more minutes, his mind drifted over to the events that had unfolded in that time period. Jedediah had told him that Marcus was dead, but the general couldn't accept that. Marcus was dead in spirit only. There was still a chance of getting him back, he just needed to convince Ahkmenrah to let him use the Tablet. The Mayans had been subdued enough, it shouldn't be hard to reverse whatever the priest had done.

But that wasn't the only thing on the Roman's mind as he laid awake, staring up at the white plaster ceiling above him. Jedediah had been a source of thought for a while too. His arm was fine, it had healed quite quickly since the bullet had missed the bone, and it was a clean wound. But it wasn't his injury that concerned the general. It was what he'd told him.

He hadn't spoken much about the dreams he'd had lately, but it was still evident that they still bothered him. He came to visit the general every night, telling him about this and that, about how his men were faring and the latest news from Larry about the other exhibits, the norm. He would occasionally talk to him about the weather, or maybe what weird or interesting thing he'd discovered earlier that night.

But tonight would be different, Octavius decided, sitting up slowly. He winced very slightly, then smiled as he twisted himself sideways, feeling very little of the pinching effect the wound had caused him. It was time he got up. He stood up and carefully got dressed, deciding against wearing his armor for the time being. The tunic was comfortable enough. He smiled, reached for the door, opened it, and coughed.

He quickly closed the door again, rushing over to the side of his bed where a small bowl had been placed by one the medic. He spat the goopy liquid out and cringed at the greenish coloration. He coughed a few more times, until he was sure he'd gotten it all up. He cleared his throat to once to be sure. This had been happening for a while now, but it was probably just the common cold. Nothing more.

He shoved the bowl under the bed, reminding himself to have the medic look at it later. Right now, he had a cowboy to find.

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"Good morning, Lupus." Octavius said, smiling at the guard stationed outside the door to the barracks. The guard saluted smartly, and then spoke.

"Good evening, sir. You seem well, sir."

"Indeed." Octavius replied, smiling again. "I feel just fine. Where might I find Lepidus?"

"In the war office, sir. Looking over the reports."

"Reports?" Octavius asked, frowning.

"Yes, sir. Nothing serious. Just reports of how us soldiers are faring during weapons practice."

"You were supposed to have this week off. No drill sessions."

"I know, sir. But some of the men found it hard to keep themselves from it. So General Lepidus has made a list of the men who want stuff to do, and is assigning them duties."

Octavius couldn't help but smile at the insistence of his men. Such good soldiers, they were. "And you?"

The soldier paused for a moment, then spoke in a sheepish tone. "I was bored, sir. So I volunteered for guard duty."

"Well, I haven't been disturbed by any heathens, so good job. Now that I am up, you may do what you wish."

"My shift does not end until midnight, sir."

"You wish to stay, then?"

"I do, sir."

"Very well," Octavius said, smiling. "Let me see...I believe my messenger pigeons are still inside. Could you guard them?"

The soldier smiled, and saluted again. "Yes, sir!"

"Good. Carry on then."

Octavius continued on, nodding greetings to his men as he neared the headquarters building. It was a good evening in the diorama, with people milling about and participating in different events. As he walked on he remembered there was a festival this week, for their god Jupiter. He would be expected to be there later this evening, to make the speech and the herbal sacrifice.

He entered the building and took a deep breath, before exhaling and smiling. He'd missed being in here, doing his paperwork. One of the few tasks he shouldn't enjoy but he did. He saw Lepidus hunched over the desk, writing quickly as he signed a document before closing it, sealing it with Octavius' wax seal. He then called in a messenger and sent out the dispatch quickly.

"What is the rush, Lepidus?" Octavius asked, coming to sit across from his old comrade.

Lepidus looked up for a moment, surprised to see Octavius up, then smiled slightly. "Good evening, Octavius. Good to see you up again. I was just sending out the list for the participants in tonight's ceremony."

"Who have you chosen?"

"A few of the men, about seven, I think, who have been working hard. It will be quite an honor for them."

"I will be honored to have them beside me." Octavius said, nodding. "It has been a long time since I have spoken at ceremony. I do not even have a speech planned."

"No problem." Lepidus said, handing him a rolled up scroll. "I wrote one out yesterday night."

Octavius skimmed over the speech, nodding as he read some parts, then frowning, raising a confused eyebrow. "What is this, here?" He asked, pointing to a strange phrase he hadn't seen before.

"Oh, the clerks came up with that. We figured this year we should try something new. Even a god must get bored with the same speech over and over again."

"Well, if he gets angry, I blame you." Octavius said in a joking tone, putting the scroll down.

"A simple thank you would suffice," Lepidus said, smirking.

The general laughed. "Yes, thank you, Lepidus. Now. On to other matters. Has Jedediah come around this evening?"

Lepidus nodded, and gestured to the entrance of the hall. "He stopped by earlier. When he heard you were still asleep, he said he would be back later...ah, here he is now!"

Octavius smiled as he heard the telltale screech of tires and the sound of a running engine. He made his way outside,mindful not to run with his injury, and looked over the lip of the diorama, smiling with excitement at the little car waiting for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys. This isn't a new chapter, so sorry. I was reading through what I had so far, and I decided I needed to take up a new perspective and try again. So this is the same chapter two as before, but chapters three through the rest will be brand new. Sorry again.

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Octavius smiled as the car pulled up to the diorama, and looked expectantly at the rope as it swung. He smiled even wider when a grinning, blonde head appeared above the lip of the diorama, and the cowboy heaved himself up completely. He looked excited.

"Well would ya look at that!" The cowboy exclaimed, gesturing to the Roman. "Thought you'd never get outta that bed. How ya feelin'?"

"Better," Octavius replied, still smiling. "And you?"

Jedediah walked over to a pillar and leaned against it, using his newly healed arm for support. "Answer your question?"

Octavius nodded. He then remembered what he was going to say. "Oh, yes. Jedediah, might I ask you for a favor this evening?"

"Anything." The cowboy said, nodding. "But first, wanna go for a ride?"

The Roman hesitated, then shook his head. "I cannot. I cannot get down the rope."

"Oh."

Jedediah was quiet for a moment, before he thought of a new idea. "Why don't we have breakfast then? Ain't that one place open?"

"The Golden Blade?"

"Yeah, that place. Ain't it still open?"

Octavius nodded. "Thankfully. I could not survive without their breakfast muffins."

"They got coffee, right?"

"I think so."

"Good. Let's go."

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"Man that's good!" Jedediah said, downing his coffee. "My boys taught ya'll well."

Octavius nodded, sipping his slowly. He was never one for the bitter drink, but he didn't mind it sometimes. Sometimes it was better to get the foul drink instead of paying extra for something different. He nibbled on a piece of cinnamon bread before speaking. "That request I had for you,"

"Ah yeah, that. What's up?"

"You have noticed the vast amount of decorations about, yes?"

"Yeah. It ain't Christmas so what's up?"

"It is the beginning of a new year," Octavius said, looking out the window to see how the decorating was going. "It is the first of Martius."

"Mar what?"

Octavius rolled his eyes. "January. It is the first of January."

"Ah. And that means?"

"New Year's Day."

"Well obviously," Jedediah said, throwing up his hands dramatically. "But what does that mean to you?"

"It is the day we celebrate Jupiter, our god-king."

"Oh." Jed said. He then shook his head. "Pagan holiday."

"Does it bother you?" Octavius asked guardedly, glaring.

Jedediah shook his head. "No, no. I was just thinking about our last little pagan holiday."

Octavius shivered slightly as he remembered the Mayans and the full moon, and thanked his gods that they weren't as bloodthirsty as theirs. "It is a tradition for my people. Every year, on the first of January, the leader at the time, which is me, makes a speech."

"How come I never knew this?"

"You are always off getting drunk with your men celebrating your own New Year's tradition."

"I don't get _that_ drunk."

Octavius his his eyebrows before continuing. "But this year is different. It is a special year. An anniversary, of sorts. This is my tenth year doing it. Normally the Senate would host it, but recently they changed it. And since Marcus is gone,"

Jedediah could hear a trace of regret in his friend's voice.

"I need someone to fill his place."

"What was Marcus' job?" The cowboy asked curiously.

"He held our standard, or flag, in your terms."

"And you want me to do it?"

Octavius nodded. "If you could, I would be most grateful."

"Why can't Lepidus do it?"

"Lepidus is not technically in a position of power. And his loyalties, at least, to the people, are questionable. They would not take kindly to him being in the ceremony."

"And they wouldn't mind me?"

Octavius sighed, and shook his head. "That is the one problem. You are not of my people, but still you are an ally. It will be the first time since the age of Marius a non Roman has held the standard. So do not mess up."

"I didn't say I'd do it."

"Please?" Octavius asked pleadingly, trying to look desperate. "I will buy you another cup of coffee?"

Jedediah thought for a moment before nodding. "Deal. But under one circumstance."

"And that is?" Octavius replied.

"I ain't wearin' no dress."

"FIne. But at least look presentable."

"Deal. Now where's my coffee?"  
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Later that evening, with the crowd gathered before the speech podium, and with the distant sound of fireworks from outside the museum, the ceremony was about to begin. Standing behind the curtain, in his best tunic, his helmet straight, and his army shining, the Roman general waited nervously for the signal to take center stage. The men chosen for the ceremony stood patiently flanking the podium, where his speech sat, waiting for its orator to speak it to the crowd.

But he did not feel so good at that moment. Earlier that day, when it was announced that a cowboy would be in possession of the standard, some of the people had grumbled and said it was against tradition and that the great god would curse the Empire if it was not in Roman hands. Octavius prayed that Jedediah would not screw this up. It was direly important this went well. Superstition could topple empires, and the last thing the Romans needed was more chaos.

Just then, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder, and turned to see Jedediah standing there, in a sharp suited tuxedo, looking quite dashing, apart from his Stetson, which, Octavius decided, had to go.

"What d'ya think?" Jedediah asked, turning once on his heels.

"You look fine," Octavius said, nodding to his friend. "But the hat has gotta go."

"What!?" The cowboy exclaimed, gripping his dear head ornament tighty. "Aw heck no, this don't leave my person and ya know it."

"Please, Jedediah. Just for tonight."

"No."

Octavius sighed, and rubbed his unusually sore head. He was not up for this tonight. "Just give it to me. Nothing will happen to it."

"No."

"Look." Octavius said getting slightly irritated. "I need this to go well. If it does not, I could be outcast again. Do you know what that feels like? No? I thought so. So please, for the love of Caesar, just take off the hat."

Jedediah hesitated, sensing an angry shift in his friend's temper, and slowly did as he said, placing his Stetson down on a chair.

"Good. Now run a comb through your hair and smile. You go out first."

The Roman turned back to the curtain, assuming the cowboy was doing as he'd been told. He heard Lepidus give the signal for Jedediah to go onstage, and the cowboy held the standard tightly, before glancing at Octavus for reassurance. The Roman nodded, Jedediah took a deep breath, and plunged through the curtain.

The trumpeters blew the fanfare as the crowd cheered excitedly. Jedediah stood in the center of the stage, a determined grin on his face as he waved the standard from side to side, actually enjoying the attention he was getting from the roaring crowd. After a moment he moved to the side of the stage, a few feet away from the podium, and tapped the floor with the end of the shaft. Octavius' cue to come out.

The crowd roared and cheered even louder as their leader stepped into the light, and ceremoniously made his way to the podium. He let the people cheer for a moment longer before raising his hand. Immediately, silence fell, and he began to speak.

"People of Rome, we have had another successful year, have we not?"

Another cheer erupted, and he waited until silence fell again.

"We have had rough times this year, believe me. But that comes with any year. They are a test of Rome's endurance. And we endure them like any other year. We come through. This year may look uncertain, but we have so much to be thankful for. Our crops still grow. Our children remain young," He looked at a group of women in the crowd, who smiled at the thought of keeping their babies forever, while a few frowned, wishing for their annoying toddlers to grow and take care of themselves. "And most important, the piece with our Western neighbors continues. That is why this year, their leader participates in our sacred festival."

Jedediah couldn't help but smile, and held the standard up higher.

"And that is why we thank Jupiter..." Suddenly, as if the sun itself were shining down on him, Octavius began to sweat. He frowned, then realized he'd stopped talking. He swallowed, and cringed at how sore his throat was. He coughed a few times and forced himself to continue, casting a quick glance at Jedediah, who looked concerned. "We have Jupiter to thank *cough* for everything we have to *cough cough* look forward to this year. That is why we *cough* must c-celebrate..." He was feeling light headed now, and stumbled forward slightly, causing the podium to tip and almost fall. The crowd gasped slightly. "C-c-celebrate our...existence..."

Then it happened. He felt his legs buckle, and he let out a groan as he tipped sideways, the lights a blur before his eyes. He heard many voices in the crowd scream in shock, and heard Jedediah shout. He felt arms catch him before he hit the ground, and in his last seconds of consciousness he saw a horrible sight; the standard was on the ground.


End file.
